


A Tiny Christmas Miracle

by dontcryMasha



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cute, Fallen Castiel, Fluff, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, No Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 14:19:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2853896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontcryMasha/pseuds/dontcryMasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just some fluff for Christmastime. Cas has fallen and is staying at the bunker while Dean and Sam try to pull off the first Christmas since forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tiny Christmas Miracle

“Hahah, oh wow, I haven’t decorated a tree in…how long?”

It’s Sam and Dean’s first Christmas Eve at the bunker and they’ve decided to get a little festive for once. They went out and got a big tree and now they’re setting it up in the study. It was lucky that they found cheap mini lights and a box of shatterproof ornaments while they were shopping.

Sam is ecstatic as he strings the tree with lights, but Dean stands back with a glass of whiskey in his hands and sighs. Even though they have no active cases and no immediate trouble brewing above or below, the third man staying at the bunker has Dean worried.

“You think he’s sleeping okay?” Dean asks.

“Cas?”

“Yeah…”

“Probably. I won’t mind if you go check on him. I still have a couple of these garlands to hang up.”

“Okay. I’ll just be a sec.”

Dean gives his brother a weak smile then heads off down the hallway, still clutching his drink. It’s no season for Cas to be celebrating, especially when he’s down all of his grace and experiencing humanity head on for the first time. They set up a spare bedroom for him and gave him a few basic supplies, but Dean’s empathy for the once-angel is overwhelming.

He pushes open the already ajar door and steps inside Cas’ dark bedroom. In the light from the hall, Dean can make out a heap on the bed that is surely a sleeping Cas. Dean stands there and watches him for several long, painful minutes. He can’t possibly fathom what Cas must be going through right now.

“Hnnn…huh…”

Dean freezes when Cas makes sleepy grunts. He turns over and, squinting, mutters something that resembles, “hello, Dean.”

“Didn’t mean to wake you. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m still…”

Cas stretches out and groans in disappointment.

“…still adjusting.”

“I know,” Dean answers a little too quickly. He swirls the liquor around in his glass, eyes fixed on its amber waves. “If you uh, if you can’t sleep, you can come watch us decorate for Christmas. It’s kinda dumb, but Sammy and I never had a _real_ Christmas, so I think we’re entitled.”

“I understand,” says Cas. “I was around for the original birth of Christ, which wasn’t even around December, but I haven’t celebrated such a holiday either.”

Dean pushes his mouth into a bittersweet smile.

“Then it’s a first time for all three of us,” he says. “That’s cool, I’d say. We’ll do it right.”

“Yes,” Cas agrees. He’s still very sleepy.

“I’ll let you catch a few more Zs.”

“Catch what?”

“Sleep.”

“Ah…”

“Just uh, lemme know if you need anything. Don’t worry about bothering us or waking me up. Really.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Night, Cas.”

“Good night.”

Dean leaves Cas alone once more and returns to the study, where Sam is hammering shiny garlands of gold and silver in every threshold. Dean laughs.

“Going all out, huh?” he teases.

“Hey, I want this to be a good Christmas. You never know when it might be our last.”

The words come out of Sam’s mouth quicker than he can apologize for them, but Dean doesn’t answer. He doesn’t frown or scoff or react at all—his statement is far too true. They should be so lucky that they’ve made it thus far.

“This, too.”

Sam nails a sprig of fake mistletoe in the middle of one doorway. Dean shudders.

“Don’t do that,” he hisses.

“Why not? Siblings are exempt, I’d assume.”

Dean turns bright red. He clings to his whiskey like a lifesaver.

“Afraid to kiss Cas?” Sam adds.

“Y-yeah, I don’t kiss dudes. You should know that. C’mon. Where’ve you been?”

Dean’s retort is so fast and flustered and Sam can’t help but laugh. The truth is, _Dean_ isn’t afraid of kissing Cas—he’s afraid of _Sam_ kissing Cas.

“Anyway,” Dean attempts to divert, “The place looks great. Wanna call it a night?”

“I think so. We’ll do Christmas stuff in the morning…whatever that might be. Unless you, hah, unless you want to make cookies for Santa.”

“Shut up.”

Sam laughs and Dean walks to his own room.

“Okay, goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, Sammy.”

Dean drags himself to bed and curls up on his memory foam mattress. There are no pleasant thoughts of sugarplum fairies buzzing in Dean’s head. While thousands of children lay awake in bed, butterflies in their tummies over the supposed visit from Saint Nick, Dean stares at the ceiling and worries about Cas. He finds himself delighted to see Sam in such high spirits, but no amount of joy from his brother can set his mind at ease about Cas. The minutes tick away until morning finally arrives.

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

Sam is already in the kitchen, brewing their morning coffee with an unusually well-rested smile on his face. He pours three cups and offers two of them to Dean.

“For you and Cas,” he says. “I thought you’d prefer to do the honors.”

“Thanks…”

Dean’s voice has as much enthusiasm as his night had sleep. Even as he walks beneath the shimmering garlands and the bunch of dreaded mistletoe, he feels roots of anxiety pumping through his legs. How was Cas’ first night?

“Hey, Cas?”

He opens the door and comes inside slowly, holding the coffee out. Cas is fast asleep on his back and all of the covers kicked off. He must have taken his pants and suit jacket off before going to bed, since all he wears now is a pair of white cotton boxers and his dress shirt. It’s still buttoned all the way up and the tie is all, though everything has wrinkled.

“Cas…”

“Haaah…ah…”

Cas grunts softly and turns on his side. He wets his lips and opens his eyes, instantly focusing on Dean.

“Morning, buddy,” says Dean.

“Morning…”

“Sam made coffee. How ‘bout you have a cup? It’ll make you feel better.”

Dean decides to sit at the foot of the bed. Tiredly, Cas sits up and slumps against the man. Dean blushes.

“H-hey, don’t make me spill the joe.”

“My apologies.”

Cas tries to straighten himself up and takes one of the cups. He sips it gently and smiles at Dean. The bags under his eyes are more pronounced than ever, but he still sparkles in a delicate way. They stare at each other momentarily.

“How do you celebrate Christmas?” Cas asks.

“Uhh, well there’re plenty of ways. People do all sorts of stuff. Singing, presents, cookies, making a big dinner…that’s not really our style, though. I mean hey, I’m always up for trying a couple recipes but I’m not gonna tackle a roast or anything like that.”

“Oh. I see.”

Cas takes another sip. The coffee is quite pleasing to him.

“I think the most important part of Christmas,” Dean continues, looking away from Cas all of the sudden, “Is spending time with the folks you care about.”

Cas nods.

“Yes, that is important. I’m glad to have you both.”

“Yeah, me, too. Let’s go see what Sam might have in mind.”

“Alright.”

They get up together and, after Cas uses the bathroom, go to the study where they find Sam. He’s standing in front of their Christmas tree and adjusting some of the ornaments. Cas is stunned by the decorations.

“Oh!” he exclaims, eyes shining bright. Clearly, he can’t make up his mind if he’s feeling more happy or confused.

“Christmas decorations,” Dean explains.

“Yes, yes, this is familiar. I’ve noticed these trends from year to year.”

Cas walks over to the tree and looks it up and down. He touches a few of the ornaments delicately, still drinking his coffee with one hand. Then he sees four wrapped presents beneath the tree.

“What are those?” he asks.

“Gifts,” says Sam. He squats down, picks two of them up and offers them to Cas, who is now thoroughly confused.

“Gifts for me?” Cas asks.

“Yep,” Sam and Dean say simultaneously.

Cas puts his coffee down and takes both of the gifts. He inspects them carefully. One of them has “To: Cas, From: Sam” written on it, while the other has “ _for Cas from Dean_ ” scribbled in a quick, almost nervous looking pen.

“You give me gifts on Christmas?” Cas asks.

“Everyone gives gifts to everyone on Christmas,” Sam clears up for him. He picks up the remaining presents and offers one to Dean, keeping the other under his arm. “See? I got this one for Dean and Dean got this for me.”

“Ah, but…”

Cas glances at Sam and then to Dean. He looks down at his wrapped up presents again.

“What?” Sam asks.

“I haven’t gotten anything for either or you…”

“It’s fine,” Dean interrupts. He starts unwrapping his present from Sam. “Y’know, people say it’s better to give than to get, but at the end of the day it doesn’t matter. We’re happy you’re alive and you’re here, safe and sound.”

“I suppose.”

“Go on, open them.”

“Right…”

Cas watches Dean as he tears into his gift, which is a new plaid shirt. Sam opens his and laughs when he sees the first of three books.

“ _Get out of your shell and into her pants_?” he reads. “Seriously?”

“C’mon, Sammy,” Dean laughs. “If you’re ever gonna get a woman in your life, you’ll figure it out through a book, right?”

“I _guess_.”

The other two are cool, non-offensive books on lore and mythos. Sam gives Dean a proper thanks and Dean returns the gratitude. He puts his shirt on and asks, “How’s it look?”

In the meantime, Cas has been standing between the brothers with his gifts still wrapped up. He’s looking at them with a terribly sad face.

“Go ahead,” Dean says.

“Yeah it’s fine. We got them so you would have fun opening them.”

“Alright.”

Cas carefully rips through the wrapping on the gift from Sam first. It’s a pair of jeans.

“What, you bought everyone clothes?” Dean laughs.

“We need them,” Sam rebuts more seriously than Dean expected. He smiles at Cas. “You’ll want more than just one pair of dress pants now. Trust me, you’ll be more comfortable in denim.”

“Thank you, Sam,” says Cas. “This is very thoughtful.”

He sets the jeans down and begins to unwrap Dean’s present now. It’s smaller and harder than Sam’s. Once fully unwrapped, the gift ends up being a box of various bath products—bubble bath, salts, oil. They’re all lavender scented.

“I don’t understand what this is,” Cas says, examining the box carefully. Dean blushes.

“You’re gonna be washing up a lot, so you might as well enjoy it.”

“That’s nice,” Sam says with a genuine smile.

“Merry Christmas, Cas.”

Cas looks at Dean with a straight face.

“That’s what you say,” Dean adds.

“Merry Christmas,” Cas says. He turns to Sam and repeats the saying. “Thank you both. This means a lot to me. I know you’ve been through a lot, and I’m to blame for a good deal of it, but…but I’m happy to be here, even if that means losing my grace.”

Sam gives Cas a hug.

“You’re welcome, Cas,” he tells him. “We’re glad to have you here, too. Right, Dean?”

“ _Right_ ,” Dean answers sharply. Seeing Sam’s arms wrapped around Cas makes him grumpy. As soon as brother lets go, he runs in to replace the hug. He squeezes Cas real tight and leans his head against him.

“Dean…”

Cas sighs into the hug, smiling finally. He closes his eyes and holds the embrace for a few blissful moments.

“I’ll let you two hug it out,” says Sam. He disappears and Dean feels himself fading into safety.

“Stay here,” he whispers to Cas.

“I don’t plan on leaving. Where else would I go?”

“No, I mean stay _here_.”

He squeezes Cas’ body tighter. Cas makes a tiny grunt.

“Don’t leave my arms,” Dean continues to whisper. He trembles. “Don’t you _ever_ leave my arms.”

“I’m not sure I can function with you—“

“Shh…”

Dean breaks off the hug and takes a good look at Cas. He puts his hand on the box of bath supplies and pats it.

“I’ll teach you how to use ‘em,” he says, cheeks getting even rosier.

“Thank you. I’d appreciate that. All of these human things…it takes an incredible amount of adjusting.”

“You’ll do just fine.”

Dean takes his coffee mug again and sips it, but makes a grossed out face since it’s gone cold. “Let’s get a reheat on these,” he says, picking up Cas’ as well.

“How do you do that?”

“Reheat?”

“Yes.”

They head off towards the kitchen now. Cas is still holding his box of bath supplies.

“Microwave.”

“Oh, yes of course. Could you teach me that, too?”

“Yeah, everything. You’ll be a normal human in no time, buddy.”

They pass beneath the threshold that has the mistletoe. Cas pauses and cocks his head.

“Why is there artificial foliage tied here?”

“Oh!” Dean shouts. He steps through the threshold quickly. “It’s just a stupid Christmas thing that Sam insisted on putting up!”

“Christmas thing? Tell me about it, Dean.”

Dean is bright red.

“It’s just—it’s just mistletoe. When two people go under it they ‘have’ to kiss. It’s stupid. Don’t worry about it. People like to do it for Christmas, but it’s just dumb.”

“Oh…”

They go to the kitchen and Dean shows Cas how to reheat the coffee. He tops the cups off, too. Cas is endlessly intrigued by the power of the microwave.

“We use ‘em all the time,” Dean says. “I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“Not especially.”

“Well, you’ll get used to it.”

“Yes. I think I will.”

Cas takes a satisfied sip of his coffee and follows Dean out of the kitchen once more. They pass beneath the mistletoe and Cas stops. Back towards the tree they can hear Sam singing in a horribly cracking voice, “ _O! Men of Letters Bunker, O! Men of Letters Bunker, you are so perfect for us. O! Men of Letters Bunker, O! Men of Letters Bunker, you…hahaha…uh…_ ”

“C’mon,” says Dean, slowing down with a wince from Sam’s singing, “Let’s see if Sam has any holiday plans.”

“But, Dean.”

“What?”

Cas looks up at the mistletoe. They’re both stopped right beneath it.

“It’s the human thing to do, isn’t it?” Cas asks. Dean scratches his neck.

“Y- _yeaaah_ , you could look at it that way.”

Cas fixes his eyes on Dean’s. Dean wets his lips.

“We’re beneath it,” Cas says. “I want to…”

They both lean forward and touch their lips together. Dean feels an instant rush of satisfaction engorge his body. All of these years pining for the angel’s touch, running from his own feelings and wallowing in self-pit have finally panned out for the best.

He opens his eyes and sees Cas’ are still closed, but his cheeks are rosy. Dean touches their lips together again but this time, he takes Cas’ face in his free hand. Cas tilts his head. They kiss deeper. Then Dean pulls away and smiles. Cas opens his eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Cas,” he whispers. His voice falls frail and tiny. “Angel or not…I um… _I love you_.”

Cas narrows his eyes. He concentrates on Dean, which at first alarms the man. Maybe he said too much. But then Cas leans his head into the crook of Dean’s neck and closes his eyes once more.

“I love you, too, Dean. No matter what.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
